Broken Promises
by VivaMac
Summary: Elisabeth Jones made a promise with her older sister, Rebecca. But when someone broke that promise, one of them is thrown into a world where the best thing that can happen is a quick death. Can they forgive each other, or will one die and the other run away? *UNDER HIATUS*
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**:

He tells me, on this journey, one or neither of us will make it out alive. That there will be things I will see, things that will haunt me forever.

I hope he's just exaggerating.

He also said its just the way things are, the games. It's unfair, that's all. The Capitol watches, their families healthy, wealthy. Food is just one word to them.

For us, its life or death.

Even if we win, we die.

* * *

**Chapter 1:**

**Reaping**

"You look beautiful," my mother says, wiping away any dirt or grass on my dress. "My poor little baby." She whispered, pulling me into a tight hug. I was fourteen, yet she acted like I was twelve, going to my first reaping.

"I'm not a baby." I said, returning her hug. I heard my mother sigh, and she leaned back, releasing me.

"I know, but..." she trailed off. My mother had blonde hair, which fell in front of her blue eyes as she looked down. Her nose was thin, and her features sharp and cheekbones high.

I had reddish-brown hair and green eyes. Sometimes I wonder if she is really my mother. I suppose I look like my father, but he was dead as long as I could remember.

"Mom!" My sister, Becca - short for Rebecca - called, walking into the room. She was 18, which means this is her last reaping. "Where is my good luck charm?" My mother gave an audible sigh.

"On the kitchen table." my mother said. "Now, back to you. If anything happens -" I cut her off.

"Nothing is going to happen. I only have my name in fourteen times. Bec has hers in 46."

"I know. But if anything does, if they..." She trailed off. "If they pick you, Ellie, I have your sister taking your place for you."

I opened my mouth to protest, but said, "Okay."

"Lets go." My mother gave me a reassuring smile. But I know for a fact she needs it more than I do.

Our home is in the outer corner of District Eleven, closer to the forest edge that leads to Twelve and the ruins of Thirteen. The place was built out of rotting wood, and the porch creaked like it could come down in a matter of seconds. My mother weaved the furniture, and made most of her money from basket weaving for the farmers.

I brought some money back too, climbing the highest of trees, and collecting the most fruit in my group. Sometimes I'd even collect the crops.

My sister was planning on moving to District Three, if she could make it that far. Becca and her boyfriend were planning on running away together, hoping to escape their arranged marriages. She only told me this plan, though.

Mother put out the fire, and set the water bucket on the dining table. All three of us walked to the crowded time square, Becca and I getting into separate lines and getting our fingers pricked, and our mother standing with the other parents.

Becca and I were sectioned off into lines, younger in the back, older in the front. There were multiple lines, and two groups - one boy, one girl.

A woman stepped up on the stage, large screens behind her. Her hair was a vibrant pink and her skin had a bluish tint. She tapped the microphone, sending and explosion of static from the speakers, damn near deafening the audience.

"Welcome, to the 43rd annual Hunger Games!" Her loud Capitol approved voice boomed over the people, almost making a quiet place even quieter. "My name is Camilla Astoria Campbell. May the odds be ever in your favor. Ladies first!" Camilla waved her manicured hand over the glass ball, white paper filled to the brim. She dug her hand into the bowl, pulling out one tiny slip.

Everything went in slow motion.

Only fourteen slips were mine. 46 were Becca's, millions for someone else. The odds may or may not be in my favor. If I get picked, Becca takes my place. If I don't, it might be Becca or one of my few friends.

The odds were not in my favor.

They were in nobody's.

"Elisabeth Jones." My name. She called my name. My name. I shook my head, thinking I had misheard her. "Elisabeth Jones? Don't be shy." Everyone's faces turned to me, their gazes burning a hole in my head. I gasped, the realization of things setting in. People began to move, clearing a path for me. I kept my head high, and began to move forward, walking to the stage. It was silent. Nobody volunteering, nothing.

They lied. My sister and I had made a deal before my first reaping.

_ "If you get chosen, I'll volunteer. I promise." Becca sat in front of a nervous, twelve-year-old Ellie, and took her hands. "Don't worry. I'll be right there with you."_

Lies.

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**Thank you all for reading this story. Do me a huge favor by reviewing, all types are allowed and appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

**The Train**

"You must be Elisabeth," Camilla said, her mouth forming a thin line on her face. Her makeup was caked on, the white foundation looking like a mask because it ended on her chin. Her eyeshadow was sparkly gold mixed with black, and her fake eyelashes were way above the lash line.

I nearly rolled my eyes, Naw duh I'm Elisabeth. I thought.

"On to the boys," Camilla nearly shuddered in excitement, making me scowl. How can people be so in humane?

I watched closely as Camilla opened the black tape, revealing the name. "Cole Masterson," a boy around sixteen hopped on stage. Cole had olive skin and blue eyes, and his dark hair was stuck to his forehead in the heat. He sent me a sideways glance, before turning back to the crowd.

"The 43rd Hunger Games tributes!" Camilla raised both of our hands up in the air, as if presenting some sort of winners. Peacekeepers dressed in white led up into an ivory building us, vines and the district symbol in the dead center of the roof.

"This way." One peacekeeper said, shoving me into a room. Ass. I thought, glaring at the door.

The room was warm, or at least better than it was outside. It was mostly woven furniture, possibly my mother's work, with sky blue cushions and light green walls.

Around ten minutes later, my mother came in. "Hey," she whispered.

"Hey." I mumbled. My mother gave a choked sob and ran up to me, giving me a hug. I stumbled back a few steps, but managed to hold my ground. I returned the hug, patting her shoulder while she cried.

"I-I-I tried, I really did. She - she promised you. She promised us." She said, sobbing.

"It's fine," I lied.

"N-no it's not! She broke her promise." The door slammed open.

"Times up." A peacekeeper said, tearing me away from my mother.

"Be safe!" My mother yelled as she was thrown out the door.

"I love-" the door slammed shut. "-you." I whispered, speaking only to the air, staring at the spot where she once stood. The door opened again, revealing my sister.

"El-" she began.

"Don't you freaking dare." I said coldly.

"I'm sorry!" Becca said, reaching out for me. I recoiled, backing away.

"I don't care! You broke that promise, the promise. God knows what others you've broken!" I yelled.

"Just hear me out -"

"Fu - Rebecca Jamie Jones! You risked my life, sent me out to a place where I'd die!"

"I'm pregnant." Becca whispered. I stopped.

"Wh-wha-what?" Becca nodded. "Oh my god." I whispered, hugging her. "Names, woman, names!"

Becca smiled. "If its a girl, Annabella, Rosalie, Emma, Josephine or...Ellie. If it's a boy, Joe, Kyle, Adam, or Eddie."

I let her go, looking into her brown eyes. Her blonde hair was in her eyes, and her cheeks were flushed.

"Is...is it-?"

"It's Jonathan's. It's official, we're moving to District Four. Maybe even two!" Becca paused. "Come with us."

I staggered back. "What about mom?" Becca's brow furrowed, she obviously hasn't thought of that.

"I don't know." She looked in my eyes. "I don't think we can take her. She's the one who set this up. It's all for the money." Becca sat down. "You're are to be arranged too." I gasped.

"To who?"

"That Hawthorne boy. Brian, I think." I closed my eyes, wishing it all away. "Promise me you'll be back, you'll think about it! That you'll be there, for the baby. We can...start over, be healthy for once, eat good food. We won't starve." The door slammed open. "I'll be watching! Be strong for Emma!"

It slammed behind her. The door opened again, and the peacekeepers led me to a black train with the Capitol seal, Cole right behind me.

The room I was put in was a luxury, plush couches and love seats, a mahogany coffee table in front of a flat screen, and a silk soft bluish-green duvet, and white pillows with a golden fringe.

I sat on the bed, running my hand over the sheets. _Why me? Why did this happen to me, my family? _For the first time since I found out my father died, I broke down crying.


End file.
